“Palm Sunday”

As Palm Sunday draws near, Reed Robertson shares this poem with us, written by his late wife, Audrey.

Authorities seem to agree that Jerusalem was largely indifferent and the incident quickly passed…

A really-not-important-parade,
An incident, long gone,
We read it from the Holy Book
And choirs sing the song.
We celebrate with florists’ palms..
We’re people quite sincere;
Yet – it’s not real – not relevant,
Not part of the Now and Here.

Could I have been a follower,
Had met Him on the shore,
Had heard His sermon on the mount,
Had been with Him before?
Then, on the ground I’d have spread my shawl,
And grabbed a palm to wave..
Shouting, “Hosanna! Hosanna!
Messiah! Here to save!”

What if I’d been a visitor,
Someone from Herod’s court,
Would I have gasped in blasphemy
And cut my visit short?
Then would I have told the tetrarch,
“That rabbi is too bold!
There’s danger to our Jewish rule.
The Romans will be told.”?

Perhaps as a Roman lady,
So noble and so proud,
I waited with my slaves beside..
And watch the noisy crowd.
Would I have lifted haughty eyes
And looked into His face?
He would have seen my utmost need
And saved me with His Grace.

If I had been a frightened slave..
Friendless, in that strange land,
Would I have seen Him smile at me
And gesture with His hand?
He would have promised me so much,
With never any loss,
He would have been my Friend-for-Life,
Even beyond the cross.

However, now the scene does fade,
Returning to the Past.
It is Here and Now once more,
But we should know, at last,
The Resurrection, the Sequel,
That relevance, you see,
Of the “really-not-important-parade”
With the Man from Galilee.